Reconstruction
by Kiran1
Summary: '..Draco Malfoy would not say a single word. No matter how many people attempted to get him to talk about what had happened that day, during the battle that killed the two most powerful wizards, he would not speak. The only other person who knows is Draco
1. Reconstruction

A/N: This is my first stab at a FanFic, so tell me what I'm doing wrong! Constructive Criticism greatly appreciated, and wanted. Read and rate, thanks! I'm also looking for a beta, if possible.   
  
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Reconstruction: Chapter One   
  
It was a silent feud between the two. The raven haired young man kept his lips shut in a thin line. The angelically light haired young man's eyes were completely blank. The silence between them was deafening. And they both felt it. They both knew what had happened during The Last Battle. The light haired boy would not speak about it, he had lost his father. It was the dark haired boy's task to get the other to talk. He knew the words would never come.   
  
A soft click was heard. The door of the musty library that both men were sitting in was opened. In stepped a certain Auror that went by the name of Hermione Granger. "Harry," she whispered softly. "You go, I'll try." Harry turned to Hermione, wearily. He nodded wordlessly and squeezed her hand gently before exiting the room. There were hollows under his eyes, his hair was tousled and shaggy, his eyes looked incredibly deep green and aged. The door closed with the same soft click. Hermione set herself on the seat across from the alleged Death Eater who went by the name of Draco Malfoy. Her thin, slightly calloused hand gripped the wand was in the pocket of her robe. She held it tight as she watched him, intently. Her cinnamon colored eyes were brimmed with nonexistent tears. They were completely blank.   
  
Draco Malfoy would not say a single word. No matter how many people attempted to get him to talk about what had happened that day, he would not speak. He would not reveal what connection he had with the Death Eaters. Only one person knew -- and that person was gone. Albus Dumbledore had died a hero's death, during The Last Battle. It cost the most powerful wizard in the word of magic to finally rid the world of the Dark Lord. And gone he was. The only other person who knew was Draco Malfoy's sworn enemy -- the Boy Who Lived.   
  
The Dark Lord had been defeated. Everything was supposed to be okay now. But it was just worse. The streets were crumbled and broken, littered with bodies that were either dead or dying. And there was no way to help. It would take years to fix everything that was broken. More than half of the Harry Potter Generation survived. They had been prepared. Albus Dumbledore had made sure of that.   
  
The girl fixed her thin, stretched face in the direction of Malfoy's face. It was evident that they were both touched by the grasp of war - their faces were gaunt and parched, hollows lived under their eyes, and the same haunted look lived in both of their eyes. Her hair, still in those luxuriously slightly bushy curls was pulled into a ponytail. She had not bothered to push away the curls that had slipped away from the pony tail to frame her face. "Ron," she whispered softly to him. She continued to stare fixedly at the window. She stared down at her fingers, clasped in her lap. Two drops of salty water fell onto them.   
  
He certainly had not seen that coming. He stared at the young woman who silently cried. It didn't sit right with him. He cleared his throat but otherwise remained quiet. His hair hung white blonde and shaggy, long bangs that fell often to his forehead. His eyes yes that could shoot cold frigid glances or blaze up like leaves burning when he was angry. His eyes were a changeable gray, like ice and sleet and frost and all cold and mutable things. They could be as bright as the glancing blow of sunlight striking against an icicle, as dark as clouds weighted with snow. Perhaps his eyes were the most significant part of him. Eyes that were wide open but looked shut, the blank eyes of someone who had just died. He closed his eyes, his long lashes touching his cheekbones. He opened his eyes and stared at the girl before abruptly getting up and walking to the window. The chair created a loud scraping sound against the floor. A light autumn wind had kicked up, the dead brown leaves stirred. Wands, cups, robes, plates, mugs of butterbeer were strewn on the street. Nobody failed to celebrate the death of Voldermort.   
  
He heard another chair scrape against the floor. "Ron," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and strangled. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but he felt her nails digging into her skin. They pierced themselves where his Dark Mark lived. He could feel her digging deeper and deeper. It would leave a nasty bruise. He swallowed before making a move to push her away.   
  
Before he could, her voice startled the static filled silence. "Did you kill him?"   
  
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A/N: So.. that was it. Please.. tell me, should I even continue? Or is it that bad? 


	2. Bitter Remembrance

'...iHe heard another chair scrape against the floor. "Ron," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and strangled. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but he felt her nails digging into her skin. They pierced themselves where his Dark Mark lived. He could feel her digging deeper and deeper. It would leave a nasty bruise. He swallowed before making a move to push her away.  
  
Before he could, her voice startled the static filled silence. "Did you kill him?"' /i   
  
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A thousand responses rushed through him before he inwardly kicked himself. His lips were set in the usual sneer. He stared at the girl that was just about some inches away, her nails dug into his hand. Hermione took his silence as guilt. Her eyes were downcast. She wasn't aware of her nails piercing into his arm. Her grip became tighter, almost desperate. Draco knew she would leave a dark purple and blue bruise on his pristine skin. He stared at her coldly, wishing she'd leave him be. Nobody needed the damn girl to ask him questions.   
  
In a swift, precise movement he snatched his hand back. He could feel her nails skimming across his arm before it limply fall to her side. Had she even noticed that she was holding on so tight to him? Draco stared at the place her fingers had gripped. He was in no position to raise the thick sleeve of his robe and shirt. She'd see the Dark Mark and worsen his situation , if that was remotely possible.   
  
The sun filtered through rays of weak sunlight on the surface of the ministry owned library table. He took a moment to narrow his eyes at the seat Hermione had just sat on into fiery gray slits. The library -- what an unusual place to be questioned. He recalled somebody saying somewhat about a Truth Potion being ready soon. His lips curled into a nastier sneer. He would not tell them what happened during The Last Battle. Was that what everybody was calling it? He supposed it was.   
  
The Ministry Library was relatively untouched by the reaches of war. Thousands of ancient books lined the shelves. It was paradise for the stupid Mudblood. He would have laughed, but there was no chance for laughter at the moment.  
  
Hermione did not find her question remotely funny. Why were his lips curled up slightly? She wanted to throttle him. She fisted her hand, jaw clenched. Her cheeks burned, then paled considerably. Her eyes were narrowed into small cinnamon colored slits. She was ready to give up, and she hadn't even started questioning yet. "You are just a slimy git, Malfoy," she hissed. "You--" she swallowed her words. Calmly, she looked at him levelly. "--Are dismissed for today," she finished in a strained tone of voice. She turned back to the window. The wind kicked up a bit more, leaves were flying in the air hurriedly.   
  
Hermione stood in front of the window, her rugged breathing causing the glass window to fog slightly. She turned around, eyes, face and body drained of emotion. She took in the view of the grand old library. Round, wooden tables were scattered about the library. Solid shelves were neatly lined with books that spanned across every topic imaginable. A small coat of dust resided over the books and unused chairs and tables from lack of use. She let a slight smile creep over her thin lips. She let her eyes roam over the hundreds of volume, all screaming to be read. She stared at her seat, and the one Draco had sat in. Both were now empty. She pushed them both back in the original position. She stared at the room. It showed no evidence of her or Draco being in here. She sighed softly to herself. War. Just the word caused her to shudder.   
  
During the war, nobody had used the library. It had been locked up. Most of the building had been, until now. Everybody of the Wizarding World tentatively took a step to fix what was shattered - their world was.   
  
She took in a heavy breath. She expected to feel elated, happy, anything but a heavy sadness. Everything was supposed to be better now. But she had lost so much. Ron, her fiancee. The smile was wiped off her face, a look of pure misery replaced it.   
  
She shivered to herself. She had seen so many of her closest friends die before her. She had heard their rumored deaths. She tried to remember those who had passed, from both the Dark and Light side. Parvati Patil, Albus Dumbledore, Cho Chang, Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, Crabbe and Goyle, Padma Patil, Michael Corner, Colin Creevey and his brother, Millicent Bulstrode, Hannah Abbot, Lucius Malfoy, Professor Sprout, Bellatrix Lestrange, Molly Weasley, Hagrid, Pansy Parkinson and good old Neville Longbottom. She shivered to herself. At the thought of Hannah Abbot, she remembered Justin Flintch-Fetchley. He was in Azkaban at the moment. He was a Death Eater. Absolutely nobody had expected that.   
  
She sighed stiffly before wiping away a stray tear. So much had happened. All of it in just two years. It scared her. They had been ripped out of being normal teenagers. It all happened during their Graduation. Ironically, it was Harry's name being called up as the Death Eaters had come. She closed her eyes at the memory.   
  
Draco calmly made his way outside of the damned building, into the crisp autumn air. He smirked faintly at the looks he received. It was funny, what he did, and what they thought he did. It only they knew.  
  
Of course, he was scowling as always. He despised the fact that he was magically bound by these idiots. He Apparated quickly to his flat with a soft /i noise filling the space he had just been standing in. Malfoy Manner had never been a place called home for him. Crisply, he walked into the cool interior of his home. He slumped into a soft chair, one arm on each armrest, legs crossed. His wearily closed his eyes. The face of his father flashed to his face. His father that had died just a raw, bloody month ago.A grim look spread across his eyes. His metallically silver eyes were completely withot expression. Draco had expected it, of course.   
  
He remembered vividly, his father rasping into his ear..  
  
i. "..You betrayed me, son." He made the word 'son' sound like a curse. "You will pay.." He remembered a shot of green light directed at his chest, and raising his own wand to react. Lucius was hit, his eyes still open. Draco could see blood streaming down his father's forehead in a crimson ribbon.   
  
You betrayed me.. you will pay. The words stung in his head as they echoed, over and over. In his mind's eye, he could still see his father crumpling onto the ground. /i  
  
A single tear slid down his cheek.   
  
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A/N:  
  
Hmn. Now I'm beginning not to like Draco crying. Well, its a tear. And a one time deal.   
  
Thanks so much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated. Can you help me out with the length of my chapters? Too short.. too long? [I doubt that my chapters are too long..] Somebody, anybody, help me with the length of it? I think this one is a bit too short. Some of the spelling of the names are off, I think. If they are, sorry! It was.. Senior Moment.. or a Brain Fart.. or something. Anyways, I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. This is getting to be a whole lot of fun! If you want a little Thank You space, just tell me.   
  
Oh yeah. If you have any specific pairings you want in here, tell me. I'd be more than happy to include it. Who should Ginny end up with? What about Harry?   
  
Read and Review!  
  
  
  
- Kiran - 


	3. A New Discovery

- Chapter Three: A New Discovery -  
  
Harry was hunched over, hands clasped tightly together. His brows were furrowed, his unkempt shaggy jet black hair fell over to his forehead. His deeply emerald colored eyes were obviously deep in thought. His robes lay next to him, he was in simple muggle clothing at the moment -- worn jeans, trainers, and a shirt with a Quidditch logo on it. His glasses remain on the bridge of his nose. "Mum.. Dad.. I won -- No, we won. I did it. Just for you," his voice was a mere whisper among all the havoc going around the Ministry Building.   
  
Ginny Weasley shuffled into the room, eyes trained on Harry. She felt somewhat ashamed to have to witness his tender moment.. or whatever it was. She swallowed. Without thinking, she tugged gently at a strand of his silky black hair, her usual greeting, reserved for him only. It would do for a 'hello'. She stood in front of him, a hand on his hand. Letting her hand slide off his head, she licked her parched lips. Words seemed a bit to.. petty at the moment. She could feel herself flush. She could see him tingeing a faint pink. It was not embarrassment, she knew. It was as if you were discovered doing something wrong.   
  
Impulsively, she grabbed his hand and yanked at his hand before he or she could speak. Her robe had been abandoned a pair of denims and a jumper. Hogwarts was closed due to heavy damage during the attacks. It would open, eventually in November. She could feel herself tugging at his hand until he reluctantly shuffled to his feet to follow after her.   
  
Harry looked at Ginny for a second, before following after her. He could see the difference in her. Then again, anybody could have if they cared to look close enough. She looked pinched. Her cheeks were still tear stained, though she had tried to make it look otherwise. He could see how loose the jumper was. He distinctly remembered her wearing that on the first Hogsmeade trip of his seventh year. She was walking with Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown. Laughing. Happy. Carefree.   
  
He continued to follow after her lead, her hands holding his tightly. His heart went out to her. Losing Ron should have crushed her. He was fairly sure it did. At least she kept a brave face. He could see that they were going to go out of the building. Both of them walked out, hands still clasped together. He looked gravely down at her as she impatiently tugged at him.   
  
Harry walked a bit faster, so she'd stop tugging. He wondered how such a skinny girl could have so much strength. She let her pace slow a bit. Her eyes were trained on the ground. Cups full of butterbeer, firewhiskey and whatever else was littered on the ground -- a sign of the recent celebrations. Harry's eyes were scanning the area. Small groups of people were clumped together, whispering joyously. They turned to Harry, who averted his eyes. He hated this. Ginny saw and tugged him faster, to a bench located by a small public garden. She pushed him unceremoniously on the bench and plopped down next to him. "You look like your going to drop dead," she said, without taking any pains at all to word it carefully.   
  
Good old Ginny...  
  
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They were on top of each other, pummeling each other with their fists. She could see some droplets of blood on the floor. Her eyes widened, her hands clenching and unclenching. What was Malfoy up to this time!?  
  
She could see that now the redhead covered the white-blonde haired boy. He was smacking, pummeling, and being smacked and pummeled. She could see blood pouring down from the light haired boys temple. His robes were thrown off, as were the redheaded boy's robes. "Stop! Get off him!" she yelled, not exactly sure who she was yelling at.   
  
She heard the rip of a sleeve, and a soft grunt. She heard the sickening crunch of bones. She wondered if they even heard her. The light haired boy rolled out from the red-haired man, springing up. She heard a soft gasp come from her mouth. Draco was covered in bruises and blood. His hair was tousled, she could see a bump on his head, and a scratch down his cheek. She had not yet seen the face of the redheaded man.   
  
The man turned, so he back was to Hermione. He was three feet away from Draco. "You will die in the hands of the Dark Lord," he whispered, coldly. Draco leapt at him, kicking and punching, until he was smacked. Hermione winced, she could hear the sickening sound of the cracking of bones again. She pushed herself to move, but she just couldn't.   
  
The only thought that filled her mind was that of anger at Draco. Fighting? He was a Death Eater! She was sure of it! She looked at the back of the redheaded man. Her head lurched, her heart constricted.   
  
She heard the hiss of words. However, Draco's lips were not the ones that spoke the words.  
  
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Harry's thin lips twisted into his former smile. It was a wry, bashful smile that Ginny used to love because she was taken with him. Now she loved it because it was that of a friend. A very good friend. "Don't flatter me, Gin," he gave a slight, rueful grin. He looked at the girl who watched as a leaf lazily made its journey, spiraling gracefully downwards, catching air as it descended. Drifting down, it made temporary residence in the long fingers of a certain lightly freckled, red haired girl. Her artistically articulate fingers made contact with the leaf, denting it slightly. The frown etched into her visage just moments ago drifted away as she turned the leaf over in her hands, letting a finger trace the stem of it. Letting the near perfect leaf drift away, she turned to him, grave look still living in her eyes.   
  
"You haven't eaten today."   
  
Uncomfortable pause.  
  
"You know it, too."  
  
A stiff sigh.  
  
"Harry James Potter, talk to me!"  
  
He turned to her. "Gin.. I'm not hungry."  
  
She snorted but remained quiet. He could see she was holding in words. He grinned faintly.  
  
"-You- haven't eaten today."  
  
She stared at her hands, folded in her lap. "I know," she whispered softly. She looked as if she were going to cry.  
  
"Aw, Gin. Lets go eat something," he mumbled, awkwardly. How did she always manage to turn the tables on him and Ron..? Ron. The name caused a thud in his heart. He stared at the girl next to him, that so closely resembled to Ron, the closest person he had to a brother.  
  
She nodded. Getting up with him, she unconsciously slid her fingers in his hand, sighing softly. Quietly, both of them entered a small bakery-like shop. She looked up at Harry. "You order," she muttered, tonelessly. Harry nodded. She slid weakly into a seat. She was thinking of Ron, too. She felt her heart twist as if a cold hand had clenched itself around it. She breathed in deeply, calming herself.   
  
They sat by the window table, talking quietly about anything but the war. They laughed softly over the poem she wrote just as she had started Hogwarts, though the blush on her cheeks was almost as red as her hair.   
  
"Its been good, Gin." he said, quietly.  
  
"Yes, Harry. It has."  
  
They both smiled over faraway strings of much lighter memories.  
  
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She could see Draco's wiry body, curled up in a bloody, messy heap. It did not look right, they way he looked dead. They way that his arm was twisted in the oddest angle. The way the signature smirk was not plastered onto his face. It seemed as she was immobile. She could feel all of her mind screaming with intensity. She needed to get to Draco. She needed to get away.. but she just couldn't. She could see the mysterious man turn to her, his hateful, piercing eyes staring into her own cinnamon colored eyes.   
  
She could see his sleeve was ripped to reveal a pale, skinny arm. Her eyes dropped to the ugly gash, shudders running through her body. The Dark Mark was branded into his arm. It looked like a gash of black against the purest of white.   
  
Her mouth opened slightly to see the raw, pure, unbridled hate in his eyes for her. He stepped forward to her, a sneer curled up, much like a duplicate of Malfoy's familiar sneer.   
  
Her eyes widened furthermore, her gentle, soft cinnamon colored eyes dripping the very epitome of fear. Her voice was a soft, scratchy whisper that seemed to pound back in her head.   
  
"..Percy?"   
  
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A/N:  
  
Let the Evil!Percy come out of his shell. Nope, he wasn't holed up in his room for no reason, right? Anyways. Tell me what you think! I wrote the second and third chapters in one day. Oo; I'm such a little dork.   
  
Read and Review!  
  
-Kiran-  
  
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	4. The Answer

- Chapter Four: The Answer -   
  
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Her eyes widened furthermore, her gentle, soft cinnamon colored eyes dripping the very epitome of fear. Her voice was a soft, scratchy whisper that seemed to pound back in her head.   
  
"..Percy?"  
  
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Percy Weasley's eyes narrowed into thin slits. Taking advantage of her surprise, he stepped closer, raising his wand. He could see Hermione trembling slightly. The color had completely left her, and her eyes were wide, brimmed with fear and red-rimmed from her previous outburst of tears. However, this girl prooved to be quick with her mind. Her hand shot out, knocking his wand a small distance away, under a table.   
  
Both sprang under the table, their hands reaching blindly for the wand. Hermione's reason being that she knew Percy couldn't hurt her wandless. She was too quick for that, and Auror training had taught her self-defense. Percy needed the wand to put a Memory Charm on her, and then to stun her while he killed Draco. It was a drastic plan, but he knew that it would have worked. If it weren't for that meddling Hermione. Stupid girl.   
  
Hermione smacked him from under the table, using whatever strength she had. In doing so, she hit her elbow. She cried out, but he remained quiet. Percy was temporarily held back, wincing and scowling. He had not said a single thing to her. Hermione violent dipped herself forward, throwing down two chairs that blocked her path. It.. was.. only.. a.. few.. inches.. away.   
  
Percy grabbed her foot, growling. He shot forward, their breathing the only noise that filled the air. Hermione attempted to push forward again, but Percy was too quick. He slapped her, it could be heard like the sharp cackle of a gun. His wiry frame shot out, reaching for it. Hermione pinned him down, biting, smacking, pulling hair, whatever she could do. It was rather elementary, but she knew how sensitive Percy was. He sputtered and shook her off. Her head hit the leg of a chair. Groaning, he smacked her and kicked her in the ribs. She heard the crack of something. Pain exploded and ran in waves through her body. She thought she would die, right then. A deep but dazzling darkness spread over her, and she could do nothing but plummet into the alluring depths of it.  
  
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"Lets go, Gin. It might be getting dark soon," Harry said. Ginny nodded and pushed her chair back, breathing in deeply. "Thanks, Harry. For walking with me. It was fun," Ginny mumbled, in a hurry. Though he could not quite catch her mumbled tone, he grinned, bashfully as ever. "Aw, Gin. No problem. We'll do it again. Say, make it a weekly thing, or something." Ginny could feel a smile creeping on to her face. "That would be wonderful." she breathed. They continued to walk in a companionable silence. For all of ten minutes.   
  
"Harry." breathed Ginny. Her head began to pound. She felt clammy. "Harry." she whispered, again. Just minutes ago they had been sitting calmly, talking and eating and smiling. "Harry!" she repeated, though there was no need. He shuffled to his feet, staring at the girl who had grown increasingly paler in the last minute. "Gin?" he asked, awkwardly. "Harry!" she hissed. "Ginny, calm down. What--" Ginny's eyes fluttered to a close. "I feel sick." she muttered. Harry put an arm a bit nervously around her. "Lets Apparate." he suggested.   
  
Apparating with a pop, Ginny closed her eyes and braced herself as a wave of nausea took over her. "Take. Me. To. The. Library." He nodded. Pushing her upstairs, neither were prepared for what they saw.   
  
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The library was in complete disarray. Chairs were knocked to the ground. Nearby the librarian's desk was Draco, all color washed from his skin, drops of his blood pooled around him, and his hair a mangled, bloody mess.   
  
Percy was presumably standing over something, wand pointed down at it. Ginny collapsed at the sight of her brother. Especially since she saw the Dark Mark on the arm where his shirt sleeve was ripped. "Gi--" Harry shut up. Percy had not acknowledged Ginny's fall or their silent entrance.   
  
Whipping out his wand, he swiftly murmured, "Expelliarmus!" towards Percy. The redhead turned to Harry, a sneer on his face, though he was disarmed. "..And the hero saves the day." he snarled. "Don't you think that I know wandless magic?" he reddened slightly. In the next two seconds, the bookshelf that Harry had adjusted himself against shocked itself upwards, the books flying, and the shelf hitting the ground in a roar. Percy's eyes were filled with wrath, narrowed into mere slits. Harry's lips thinned as his mind was in a temporary freeze. His knowledge of magic had lost him.   
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shot out. He watched grimly as Percy's arms and legs were bound to his body tightly. For a moment he stared at Percy's lifeless form before running to Hermione's side. "Enervate," he whispered. He watched as Hermione groaned. She was still considerably paler. Harry pushed her up. "Harry!" she whispered frantically. "You have to go get somebody! Percy, he's a De--" Harry cut in to push her closer and wipe away a stray curl from her forehead. "I know. Come on. We have to get some help."   
  
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It was dusk. Nobody had slept yet. Draco and Ginny were in the hospital, Draco for his broken jaw and arm, Ginny for the odd cold she had come down with. Harry and Hermione (after being scolded for not staying in the hospital as well) had left after Ginny, through her stuffy nose and constant dizziness insisted that both of them get some sleep. The worst thing was that tomorrow the both of them would have to go to work. It was a nightmare.   
  
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Two months had passed since The Incident. Ginny shoved herself deeper into her shell. First Ron, now Percy. She shuffled wearily into the office, buzzing with the usual morning business. It had been nearly two and a half years since the War had started, and half a year since the death of Voldermort. The Wizarding world shakily began to resume normality, though everybody feared an unnamed fear. They constantly looked over their shoulders for unknown shadows, or for a dark, faceless figure to follow them. It seemed as if things were normal. Ginny's purpose of this visit was to get Hermione, so she could take her shopping. School had already started, but Ginny still needed some supplies. She let her feet guide her to The Ministry Library, where Hermione and Draco usually were. She stared at the ground, void of emotion.  
  
Ginny, head bent walked a long corridor. She seemed to be lost in her own world. Staring at the ground, her customary black robes seemed to have swallowed up her ever thinning figure. The past years had been tough on her, obviously. Another figure with a mop of undeniably familiar jet black hair was walking from the opposite direction. "Gin?" he called out, softly. Her head snapped up. She let her warm brown eyes fall on Harry's face. "Good morning, Harry," she whispered, barely audible. "What're you doing up here, now?" Ginny fell into step with him. "Hermione and I were supposed to go shopping today." Harry raised a brow. "Really? Hermione can't step out. The potion backfired, she needs to keep questioning." He informed her. Ginny sighed. "That's just great." she muttered, bitterly. Harry frowned faintly at her disappointment. "I know what you need for seventh year. But didn't you get the list?" Ginny shrugged. "I forgot to buy a certain book. I don't like going outside alone anymore." Harry found this slightly weird, until she interrupted his train of thought with, "Harry, I need somebody with me. What if I start bawling in the streets, or something? I bet everybody here thinks I must be a mini Death Eater or something!" she spat.   
  
Harry began to snicker, until Ginny weakly beat his arm with her balled fist. "Your horrible, your miserable prat. Why are you laughing!?" she burst, angrily. Her cheeks were flushed. Harry was still grinning slightly. "Because, Gin. A mini death eater." He began to snicker again. "Mini death eater. Merlin.. I needed that." Ginny frowned. "Well, anyways. I have to go now." she muttered, with whatever dignity she could muster. Harry glanced at the watch. "I'll meet you outside of Flourish and Botts at lunch break."   
  
Ginny nodded. "See you then, Harry."   
  
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Hermione stared at Draco. "Malfoy, why won't you speak to me? Its only for your good. You have to tell me what happened. Out with it." her voice was shrill. She was downright annoyed.   
  
"No. Nobody needs to know."   
  
"Yes, they do! You stubborn git, tell me!"  
  
In a maddeningly calm voice, he smirked. "Tsk tsk, manners, Granger."   
  
Hermione lapsed into silence. Maybe the reason he didn't want to tell was because he didn't want to recount his father's death, over and over again. Maybe he didn't want to tell because he had made such a stupid mistake. He helped Harry by accident. His face curled up in disgust. He helped with the killing the Dark Lord by accident. How stupid was that? He turned to her. She was staring at him with dark intensity.   
  
"I didn't kill him." he informed her quietly. "Ron died a hero's death."   
  
Malfoy turned away to stare at the window. Hermione let a silent tear slide down her cheek. It still hurt.  
  
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A/N:  
  
Any ideas for the story? Any suggestions? I'd love to hear them.   
  
Read and Review! I live on reviews -- so you better have some more because writing for nobody sucks.   
  
-Kiran-  
  
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